


implosion (the lines we cross)

by pidgeotto_gunderson



Series: Voltron Season 7 Fix-It’s [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Crying, Depression, Fix-It, Heavy Angst, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Season/Series 07, The Journey Within, and besides this is the perfect ep for me to use to fix like 3 separate problems in this season lmaO, but i’m tagging it because it’s kinda there anyway, don’t get it twisted i actually liked this episode, i just thought the fighting was a little lackluster, now technically it’s not stated that lance has, season 7 episode 6, they talk about lance’s issues and about keith leaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidgeotto_gunderson/pseuds/pidgeotto_gunderson
Summary: The adrenaline is pumping through his veins - this is what he needs, what they both need. To yell and scream and hurt each other before they can mend.Fix-it fic for s7e6, imagining if Lance and Keith fought things out while they were all lost in space and it led to Lance finally spilling about his insecurities.





	implosion (the lines we cross)

“You have a lot of nerve questioning someone’s leadership, seeing how you left us!” Allura snaps, and Lance can’t find it in him to disagree.

 

Hunk is trying to placate, play peacemaker, but it’s got to be difficult when Allura’s right. Keith ditched them. It’s a fact.

 

One that Lance has tried _so_ hard to forget.

 

Keith left _._ Everything was okay, relatively speaking, the team was getting along better than they ever had, and then Keith just started drifting away. And he _left._

 

“As I recall,” Keith retorts, voice sharp, “ _you_ were the one who got us all cozied up to Lotor.”

 

Lance can feel the anger boiling up in his chest because that’s such _bullshit._ True or not, Keith can twist this around on other people, can’t pretend that someone else’s mistakes and misjudgments erase his own.

 

“Keith, you ran away.” Lance twists around to look at him, words careful, tone measured. He doesn’t want to...give away too much. He wants Keith to know that he’s pissed, but not - he doesn’t want him to know just how upset he is. He wants to tell him off, yell and scream and make him see how badly he fucked up, but he’s not willing to break down in tears in front of the whole team. Not here. Not now. “Maybe you should’ve just stayed away.”

 

He realizes how harsh the words are just after he says them. He realizes how much he doesn’t mean them when real hurt flashes across Keith’s face, quickly replaced an icy blankness.

 

“I’m starting to wish I had,” Keith bites out through gritted teeth. Lance hopes his flinch isn’t noticeable.

 

“Guys, _stop_ ,” Hunk begs, but Lance barely hears him.

 

They’ve avoided this conversation, this _fight_ , since Keith came back, but now - now there’s nothing to hide behind.

 

“Well, maybe you should just ditch us again, Keith, go on your merry way - we’ll get on without you.”

 

He doesn’t know if he means this one. He doesn’t want to.

 

“Maybe I would,” Keith says, “if we weren’t fucking _lost in space_.”

 

There’s a chorus of protests. Lance processes exactly none of it, because Keith’s words _burn_. They burrow deep in his stomach, wrap vice-like fingers around his ribcage, and squeeze until it feels like his torso’s on fire and he’s drowning in air.

 

Would Keith really leave again?

 

Lance still hasn’t recovered from the first time (please, please, let it be the last, _please_ ), he can’t handle losing Keith again. Constantly wondering, constantly worrying, always waiting to see him again...he can’t go through that again.

 

He had just started to feel like the two of them were actually friends, like he and Keith were finally getting comfortable with each other, and then it’d all been yanked out from under him. He adapted, but nothing felt the same. It still doesn’t.

 

(Lance chooses to ignore the voice in the back his head telling him that it probably won’t ever be the same again. That they’ll always be six feet apart even when they’re touching.

 

But _fuck_ , it hurts.)

 

The rest of the team’s voices can’t get through the static in Lance’s ears, but he hears Keith hiss, “You can’t fucking talk, Pidge,” and the anger is louder than the hurt.

 

“Do _not_ talk to her like that,” he snaps, and he feels Pidge’s arm tighten around his - in thanks or warning, he can’t bring himself to care. “This bullshit ‘ _team leader’_ thing doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole.”

 

He’d forgotten how much of a rush comes with fighting with Keith. He supposes it’s because they’re so different that, when they butt heads, it’s explosive.

 

“‘This bullshit ‘team leader’ thing’,” Keith repeats, voice hard, dry, brittle. He must’ve turned into the circle because Lance can feel his eyes drilling into the back of his head, like Keith is trying his damndest to shoot eye-lasers at him.

 

The adrenaline is pumping through his veins - this is what he needs, what they both need. To yell and scream and hurt each other before they can mend.

 

Lance turns to meet him, holding his cold gaze. “Yeah, Keith - you do realize that being the Black Paladin doesn’t make you the leader, right? That’s not how democracy -”

 

“This isn’t a fucking democracy!”

 

“ - works. You up and _ditch us_ , and then come back and think we’re going to follow you? The only reason you’re back on the team now is because Shiro isn’t!”

 

This is how they work, how they’ve always worked - the only difference now is that they both know what lines not to cross.

 

“The only reason you _stayed_ on the team is because _I didn’t_!”

 

Or at least he thought they did.

 

A shocked hush falls over the team. In the back of Lance’s mind, he does note the almost immediate regret that crosses Keith’s face, but it only half-registers.

 

_The only reason you stayed on the team is because I didn’t._

 

He never thought Keith would go there. Never thought Keith would take the deepest fear Lance has ever told him and throw it back in his face.

 

Knowing how true it is only makes it worse.

 

Someone is talking to him. He has no idea who.

 

_The only reason you stayed on the team is because I didn’t._

 

It feels like his ribs are cracking under the pressure. Like his chest is constricting, like his lungs are collapsing, like his head is imploding.

 

(At least if he implodes, no one around him will get hurt.)

 

_The only reason you stayed on the team is because I didn’t._

 

There are hands on his shoulders, and Hunk’s face is so close that Lance can’t help but blink into focus.

 

“Lance, hey, it’s okay, listen to me.” He’s talking loudly enough for Lance to hear it, but quietly enough that no one else does. It’s gentle, but pleading, like he’s been saying Lance’s name for a while now. “It’s the space madness, buddy, he doesn’t mean it.”

 

_He does, he does, he means it. He means it because it’s true, it’s true, why is it true._

 

Lance can’t figure out how to respond, how to form actual words, so he just lets Hunk talk - it’s okay, Lance, he doesn’t mean it, just breathe, it’s not true, you’re okay _._

 

His eyes shift to Keith. He looks harrowed, panicked.

 

_Does he mean it?_

 

“Lance - Lance, please look at me.”

 

He jerks his gaze back to Hunk, who asks, “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m -” His voice comes out hoarse. He stops, squeezes his eyes shut, takes a shaky breath, and opens his eyes again. “I’m okay.”

 

He appreciates this, he does - Hunk always knows exactly what he needs when he’s upset, it’s a gift  - but really, he needs him to stop or he’ll start crying. He refuses to cry, not over this. Not over Keith.

 

Speaking of Keith, he’s saying something.

 

Lance catches the end of it. “- I’m sorry.”

 

He stares at Keith, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. He should say something, ask him to repeat, because he thinks he missed the important bits, but the words don’t come. They catch in the back of his throat and stay there, just out of reach.

 

Hunk moves to Lance’s side, leaving one hand on his shoulder, and, bless him, is so good at this that he picks up exactly what Lance can’t say. “I think you’ve gotta say that again, Keith.”

 

Keith complies. “I - I’m sorry, Lance, I didn’t - I don’t mean that, that was really fucking low, I shouldn’t have -”

 

His voice cuts out again. Lance can only focus on the fact that Keith looks like he’s ready to tear his own damn hair out.

 

“Stop,” Lance finally manages, words plasticy, tasting like cardboard on their way up. “Just - just stop, it’s fine.”

 

It’s not, it’s not, it’s _not._

 

But he’d rather lie and say it’s fine, he’s fine, it doesn’t _matter_ , than have to stumble through any more of this.

 

Hunk says it’s space madness, but is Keith the one going insane or is he?

 

Fighting had seemed like a good idea at the time.

 

He always ends up being the one aching after things like this, and it’s unclear whose fault that is.

 

“No, Lance, it’s -”

 

“Let it go.”

 

“But it’s clearly not fine -”

 

“Just let it go, Keith!” He’s trembling. He’s not crying, but it’s a near thing, and everything feels cold around him. He shakes Hunk’s hand off his shoulder, quickly clenching and unclenching his fists on a loop. “What part of that do you not understand? I don’t need your apologies and your regret and your - your _pity_ , I don’t need - I don’t -”

 

“Lance -” Is that Allura? He thinks that’s Allura.

 

“I _know_ , okay?” he shouts, ignoring everything and everyone because he can’t fucking do this, he can’t fucking pretend anymore. The dam has finally broken and he can’t stop what’s spilling out. “I know it would’ve been me who gave up my spot if you’d stayed, I fucking _know_ that, alright? I don’t need a reminder of how goddamn useless I am, Keith, I - I -”

 

He wishes he could take his helmet off to wipe the tears that finally come streaming down.

 

“I’m stupid and useless and all I do is burden you guys, make everything harder, I _know_! Do you think I’m _proud_ of that? I’m fucking - I shouldn’t even be here, I shouldn’t - it should be someone else, someone _better_ -”

 

Someone lets out a choked noise, and it only makes him angrier. His vision is tinted red, and he thinks this is the height of his worthless career.

 

“I’m sorry I’m so annoying, I’m sorry I can’t do anything right, I’m sorry I hinder you guys more than I help, I’m - I’m _sorry_ , goddammit, I’m so fucking sorry, it hurts.”

 

He feels how sorry he is like an ache in his chest at all times, and it _hurts._

 

“ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_ -” He’s sobbing and shaking and it’s all he can say.

 

Someone pulls him close and then there’s four sets of arms around him and voices bouncing through the air (it’s okay, you’re okay, don’t apologize, you’re not useless, you’re not, you’re _not_ ) and all he can do is sob and shake and apologize.

 

* * *

 

When it’s all over, when the monster is defeated and they’ve reunited with their lions, the team all piles into the Red Lion’s cockpit, finally able to take their helmets off - Romelle waits in Yellow, Krolia and the space wolf in Black. This isn’t their problem.

 

Lance can’t pretend it’s not _a_ problem, though, not anymore.

 

He zones out while everyone relays what happened to Shiro and Coran, focusing instead on Hunk’s hand on his knee and on watching Keith tug anxiously on his earlobe.

 

(There’s tear tracks on Keith’s face that probably match Lance’s. This is the second time he’s seen Keith cry in the last week, which is twice more than he’d ever seen prior to this week. Unbelievable.)

 

He’s managed to float so far away from the conversation that it takes Hunk saying his name _directly in his ear_ to pull him back down.

 

“Jesus - yeah, okay, I’m here. Go ahead.”

 

Or don’t. Or just leave it alone and never bring this up again.

 

Lance wants nothing more than for this to never be brought up again.

 

He’s looking around at everyone, and none of them seem to know what to say. Not exactly a shock, but still - it’s some weird brand of hilarious, to him, that the team called this intervention and no one is actually _intervening_.

 

Pidge breaks the silence by blurting, “Did you really mean all of that or was it the space madness?”

 

She’s biting her lip, fingers fidgeting in front of her, and he could say it was the space madness. He really could.

 

Play it off like he was just losing it and he doesn’t think like this all the time. Like he doesn’t dwell for days on every single tiny mistake he makes and constantly worry that one of those mistakes is going to get someone he cares about hurt. Like his self-confidence is really as high as he acts like it is (it’s not _all_ fake, really, just. Just some of it) and he doesn’t think the team would be better off with someone else.

 

But there’s six people looking at him and not one would believe it.

 

“I -” Lance normally likes being the center of attention, but this is not fun. He tilts his head back, stares at the ceiling, counts the cracks in the metal. Folds his hands in his lap and presses them together just tight enough to hurt. “I guess I - I meant it, but it’s not -”

 

“Don’t diminish this, Lance.” Shiro’s voice is stern, but kind. It’s a tone he uses with Keith a lot. Lance has no idea what he’s done to deserve it. “You don’t have to act like this isn’t a big deal.”

 

 _It’s not,_ he wants to say, but that’d be a lie too.

 

Hunk leans closer to him, murmurs, “It’s okay, Lance. You can do this.”

 

Lance closes his eyes, sniffling. Places his hand on top of Hunk’s and just breathes for a moment.

 

He’s struggled for _so long._ He’s tired of feeling like he’s lagging behind.

 

He might as well tell them.

 

(Lance has already dug himself into a hole, rock bottom’s not much further.)

 

Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his thighs and buries his head in his hands. “Sometimes, I feel - I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

 

It’s not space madness. It feels like Earth-madness.

 

“I meant…most of what I said. It’s really not as - as bad as I made it out to be, I swear, but I - my brain likes to take everything bad about me, everything I hate -” _Wait, no, don’t go there._  “- don’t like about myself, and…blow it out of proportion. I’ll do something right and feel good about it for a second, but then I’ll do something wrong and feel bad about if for days.”

 

He could say more (there’s so much more), but the words don’t come. Besides, he thinks the team gets the gist.

 

(They don’t need the gritty details. He’s changing their perception of him, that’s inevitable, but he doesn’t need to _ruin_ it.)

 

He watches the team process, all at different rates, and hates the looks on their faces with everything he has.

 

With all the tact of an elephant, Allura asks, “How bad is it?”

 

Lance scoffs. “What, like on a scale from one to ten?”

 

The ghost of a smile. “Sure.”

 

He laughs derisively, tilting over into Hunk and flipping his hand to thread their fingers together. It’s comforting - his best friend already knows everything, way more than Lance is saying now, and it’s easier to do this knowing someone’s in his corner already.

 

He can feel Red’s presence in his head, too, and that’s nice. (He thinks he can feel Blue in the back of his mind, still. He misses her.)

 

He actually has to consider the question for a while, both to figure out the answer and to decide what version of the answer he wants to give.

 

“It’s - uh, I don’t know, a six? Generally speaking?” That feels right. It’s hard, sure, but it really isn’t that bad.

 

“Jesus, Lance, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your _fault_ , Keith,” Lance says, one hand running agitatedly through his hair. “God, it’s - it’s none of your faults.”

 

Keith seems unconvinced, but he shuts up.

 

“Guys, I - I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.” It’s directed at Shiro. “That’s why I didn’t tell you in the first place, it’s not - can we please just let it go?”

 

Apparently not - it’s clear in Shiro’s face that this isn’t over. There’s this... _look_ in his eyes, Lance can tell with one glance that he’s beating himself up over this. And not like Keith, not like anyone else here, but like - like a parent who’s realizing that they don’t know their kid like they thought. That their kid doesn’t tell them everything, that their kid has been in pain and they didn’t _see it._

 

God, the voice was enough, he never thought he could put that expression on Shiro’s face.

 

It must be one of those leader things, those _I’m the adult, I’m supposed to be looking out for you, I’m supposed to know when you need help_ things.

 

It’s ridiculous, really - they’re in the middle of a war, it’s not Shiro’s responsibility to keep tabs on their mental states. And besides, he’s basically an adult, he can take care of himself just fucking fine.

 

(Well, evidently not. But that’s not the point.)

 

The guilt is both unwarranted and unhelpful, why does no one get that?

 

“You...always looked so happy.” Shiro’s voice cracks the whole way through, holy _fuck_.

 

His mental state is nobody’s fault - not even his, he knows that - but everyone somehow jumps to some variation of “I should have”.

 

(For a second, he thinks it’s kind of nice, in a twisted, awful way. Like it proves that Shiro cares about him.

 

But then his brain supplies, _It’s not you he cares about, it’s being a good leader,_ and he doesn’t have enough evidence to argue.)

 

Either way, he’s quick to reassure. “Because I _was,_ Shiro. This isn’t - it’s not like I’m sad all the time. It’s not like I never experience joy or something, guys, seriously, I - I _am_ happy.

 

“There’s just...this underlying thing, this - this dull ache that fades in and out but never really goes away. Does that make sense?”

 

Everyone nods slowly.

 

“Great.” Lance breathes a sigh of relief. “Are we done now?”

 

Shiro starts, “Lance, we can’t just -”

 

“No, I’m not -” He finally raises his head to look at Shiro, and he has to put way too much effort into keeping eye contact when he sees Shiro’s sympathetic face (it’s not pity, that’s a plus. It looks like actually understands. Personally. Which, yeah, he probably does). “Shiro, I’m not trying to dodge this. I just - we have other issues, more…urgent ones. I’m not going to fly my lion into a wall or anything, okay, so can we just focus on the mission?”

 

He sees both Keith and Pidge flinch in his peripheral vision. Shiro looks pained, but holds steady.

 

_Please. Please just drop it, just move on, please._

 

Shiro opens his mouth, but it’s Coran (he’s been silent this whole time, Lance didn’t even know that was possible) who speaks.

 

“I think this is sufficient,” he says, and his tone reminds Lance of his own father, which, _wow._ “We should move on, let my boy Lance have some time to himself.”

 

Lance smiles gratefully at him. Coran nods back.

 

Nobody moves.

 

“Chop, chop, Paladins, we have work to do!”

 

Everyone jerks up except Hunk and Keith (the former is expected, the latter…still unsurprising).

 

Pidge is the first to come over, leaning down to pull Lance into a hug. She says, simply. “I love you, Lance.”

 

This marks exactly three times that Lance has heard those words from her.

 

Coran is next, leaning over him in this unnecessarily odd angle and holding him close. Says in what he probably thinks is a whisper, but is most definitely not, “You’ve always been my favorite, number three.”

 

Lance laughs at the indignant squawk from Pidge.

 

Then comes Shiro, kneeling all the way down to hug him. This one lasts the longest, Shiro telling him quietly, “I understand what you’re going through, Lance. It’s difficult to talk about, I know, but you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you, we’re all here for you.”

 

Tears spring to Lance’s eyes once again. He blinks them away.

 

Allura embraces him last, murmuring, “Please know you can talk to me, Lance. You are an essential asset to this team, and - and a wonderful friend.”

 

Lance thanks her wetly and she kisses him on the cheek before she goes.

 

Then it’s just Lance, Hunk, and Keith.

 

Except Hunk looks between him and Keith, squeezes Lance’s hand, and says, “Well, I’m gonna go.”

 

Lance almost tells him to stay. But when glances at Keith, the tear tracks are still there, and he can’t go another day with things between him and Keith still being…the way there are.

 

“Thanks, Hunk,” is all he says.

 

Hunk smiles, nods, and is gone.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen here.

 

He and Keith now sit directly across from each other, legs crossed, knees almost touching each other’s. Lance is staring at the ceiling again because there’s two inches and two different types of tension between them, and they’re starting to blur together.

 

Is he supposed to say something? Or is Keith?

 

It’s unclear. He doesn’t know what he wants to say to Keith, and he doesn’t know what he wants to hear.

 

This is the second time trying to talk to Keith has gone completely sideways. It’s like he plans the conversation in his head, and then Keith goes totally off-script, which…shouldn’t be surprising, considering. Still, it’s getting annoying.

 

The silence is dragging - is it awkward yet?

 

When he looks to Keith, the boy is already staring at him. They lock eyes for about four seconds, then Keith breaks, cuts his eyes to the side and starts tugging at his ear again.

 

Definitely awkward.

 

He opens his mouth without even thinking about what he’s going to say, just to shatter the sheen of silence, but Keith beats him to it.

 

“Lance, I’m -”

  
  
“Please don’t apologize again,” Lance says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head is started to hurt from crying. “You’re forgiven, Keith.”

 

A pause, then, “For what I said or for leaving?”

 

He wants to say both, he really does. Truly wishes he could and this could be over.

 

“...The first one,” he says instead, because he made it through the conversation with the team without lying, he should be able to get through this too. “I - Keith, I know it wasn’t about us, when you left, but it -”

 

“It was.”

 

Lance freezes, blinking owlishly at him.

 

Visibly nervous, but determined, Keith barrels on. “I mean, no, you’re right, it wasn’t about the team, but it was about - you.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Shit, no, not - not _about_ you, just -” He shakes his head, as if to clear it, takes a breath, starts again. “It wasn’t about you, Lance, but you…you gave me the nudge I needed to actually go.”

 

 _I pushed him away,_ Lance thinks.

 

He must look thoroughly horrified because Keith backtracks once again. “ _Not_ like that, Lance, I mean - God, I’m terrible at this - what you said, about the whole ‘five lions, six Paladins’ thing, it got me thinking -”

 

_Jesus fucking Christ, Keith left for him._

 

“I didn’t leave for you, but you made me realize that I _could_ leave. That I wasn’t destroying the team if I did. And I figured…if I left, you wouldn’t have to worry about your place on the team. Even though you really didn’t in the first place, but that’s - that’s another thing.”

 

_Scratch that: Keith left because of him._

 

 _No, not because_ of _him._

 

 _Because Lance_ let _him._

 

“So I…inadvertently convinced you to go,” he summarizes, because Lance genuinely doesn’t understand how this is a thing that’s happening right now.

 

“...Yes?”

 

In-fucking-credible.

 

“Is this your way of trying to make me feel better?” Lance asks.

 

Keith opens his mouth, closes it again. Visibly runs through six different answers before settling on, “I’m trying to be honest.”

 

 _Honest._ Yeah, okay. He can work with that.

 

“Well, if we’re being honest - I’m pissed.”

 

“I gathered,” Keith says, then cringes.

 

Lance snorts - Keith is so far out of his element right now. It makes it a little less painful, in a way, knowing that Keith is probably even more nervous than he is. “Look, Keith, this is - I get it, I get that you left because you - you needed to, not because you didn’t want to be here, it’s just -”

 

Keith tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. Lance’s eyes follow the movement.

 

“I spent so much time…wondering. Where you were, if you were okay, if - if you were coming back soon,” Lance admits. Every word feels like a weight off his shoulders. “And I kept thinking - I was your right-hand man, y’know, if anyone could’ve convinced you to stay…

 

“It was your job to keep the team safe and my job to keep you safe, and then you left and I couldn’t stop thinking that if you died it’d be my fault because I didn’t convince you to stay.”

 

“Lance, I -”

  
  
“I didn’t even _ask_. I should have -”

 

Keith scoots forward just enough that their knees actually touch, and Lance prays that his shiver is imperceptible. There’s fire in his eyes that matches the red of his armor. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Lance. I would’ve left anyway, I - I think you know that.”

 

He might. He thinks he does.

 

“It’s not - it was just something I had to do, Lance, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

 

Lance nods slowly - he believes it, he does. He’s pretty sure he does.

 

He’s trying so hard to believe it.

 

“I actually wanted to thank you.”

 

Lance feels like the fire in Keith’s eyes has transferred into his gut. “For what?”

 

“Taking care of everyone,” Keith answers, mouth quirking up on one side. “It wasn’t just about the five lions thing, Lance, I - I _needed_ to go, for me, and you -”

 

Lance inhales, holds it.

 

“You let me. You said that it was my job to keep the team safe, but Lance, _you_ did that. You protected everyone, took care of everyone, and that’s why I could leave. Because I knew you’d keep them safe. Because I trusted you.”

 

Exhale.

 

There’s one more thing. “Keith, can I ask you something?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“When you left, did you plan on coming back?”

 

Keith’s brow furrows, in confusion at first, then this awful sort of disbelieving sadness. Lance almost regrets asking, but he has to know.

 

“ _Yes,_ ” Keith says vehemently. The flames burn brighter, sparks dancing in his eyes. “Yes, Lance, I swear - I don’t know how long I’d planned on staying gone, but I _was_ going to come back, whether I found a specific reason to or not.”

 

Lance leans forward, doesn’t say anything.

 

“You know, I - I missed you.”

 

It’s soft and hesitant, and Lance feels the words settle in his chest. It doesn’t even matter if Keith is talking about the team or _him_ or both, because he hadn’t even known, but he’s been waiting to hear those words for what feels like eternity.

 

Keith clarifies anyway. “I mean, I - I missed the team, of course, but…aside from my brother - though, I guess that’s kind of a moot point - I missed you most, Lance.”

 

Lance could run a fucking marathon right now.

 

Keith missed him most. (Shiro notwithstanding. Circumstances, and all).

 

Lance doesn’t know what this means for them. He doesn’t care.

 

Why his first instinct is to reach a hand out to Keith, palm up, is a mystery.

 

(It might need solving, the puzzle of his constant desire to be close to Keith, but now’s not the time.)

 

Keith’s eyes drop from Lance’s face to his hand, shoot back up again, then lower, slowly this time, back to Lance’s palm.

 

Why Keith actually takes his hand isn’t a mystery at all, somehow.

 

Keith stares at their joined hands with this soft, fond look Lance is sure he’s never seen before. Lance’s toes feel numb.

 

“I missed you too,” he says quietly, running his thumb over the back of Keith’s hand.

 

Keith’s fond look grows even fonder - this has to be an alternate reality, _wow_ \- and his smile stretches across multiple universes.

 

(He really does think he has other issues, now, like sorting out why Keith’s smile tugs at something in his gut and why holding Keith’s hand is so much different than holding Hunk’s, but that’s a problem for another day.)

 

Lance thinks they’re okay, as it is.

**Author's Note:**

> please come yell at me about the atrocity that was season 7 in the comments
> 
> hmu on [tumblr](https://peter-parkerson.tumblr.com/)


End file.
